A lone penguin sat at the edge of a steep cliff face, contemplating whether to go on. He lived in a hopeless world. Without an end, there would forever be turmoil and pain and suffering. He would never stop the flamingos, never see the end, never die. Should he end it when he has the chance? Or should he hold that little bit of hope that is in all of our hearts?
Colonel Sanders saw the penguin and blinked.
(He was supposed to be in Antarctica, but since I quoted your post, this makes sense.) The penguin put a foot over the ledge.
Looking at it and remembering that is saddening
